Carmina Sanctorum: A Selection of Hymns and Songs of Praise

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Roswell Dwight Hitchcock, Zachary Eddy, Lewis Ward Mudge
Barnes, 1886 - Всего страниц: 447

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Стр. 250 - E'en though it be a cross That raiseth me; Still all my song shall be, Nearer, my God, to thee, Nearer to Thee. 2 Though like the wanderer, The sun gone down, Darkness be over me, My rest a stone; Yet in my dreams I'd be Nearer, my God, to thee, Nearer to Thee.
Стр. 234 - Other refuge have I none, Hangs my helpless soul on thee ; Leave, ah ! leave me not alone ; Still support and comfort me ! All my trust on thee is stayed, All my help from thee I bring ; Cover my defenceless head With the shadow of thy wing.
Стр. 254 - So shall my walk be close with God, Calm and serene my frame; So purer light shall mark the road That leads me to the Lamb.
Стр. 82 - Cold on his cradle, the dew-drops are shining ; Low lies his head, with the beasts of the stall; Angels adore him, in slumber reclining — Maker, and Monarch, and Saviour of all.
Стр. 140 - Finish, then, Thy new creation; Pure and spotless let us be: Let us see Thy great salvation Perfectly restored in Thee; Changed from glory into glory, Till in heaven we take our place, Till we cast our crowns before Thee, Lost in wonder, love, and praise.
Стр. 69 - Ten thousand thousand precious gifts My daily thanks employ; Nor is the least a cheerful heart That tastes those gifts with joy.
Стр. 270 - FAR from the world, O Lord, I flee, From strife and tumult far ; From scenes where Satan wages still His most successful war. 2 The calm retreat, the silent shade, With prayer and praise agree ; And seem by thy sweet bounty made For those who follow Thee.
Стр. 54 - Soon as the evening shades prevail, The moon takes up the wondrous tale, And, nightly to the listening earth, Repeats the story of her birth : Whilst all the stars that round her burn, And all the planets in their turn, Confirm the tidings as they roll, And spread the truth from pole to pole.
Стр. 22 - Wake, and lift up thyself, my heart, And with the angels bear thy part, Who all night long unwearied sing High praise to the eternal King.
Стр. 101 - Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast, Save in the death of Christ, my God ; All the vain things that charm me most, I sacrifice them to His blood.

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